


The simple life... although not really

by AmbecaWatson



Series: Everyone needs a family [1]
Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes, Marvel 616, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Avengers, F/M, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Superfamily, Superhusbands, Tony-centric, insomniac tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 03:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14633325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmbecaWatson/pseuds/AmbecaWatson
Summary: Just your average eventual superhusbands, eventual superfamily, avengers fluff and angst fic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had the need to write some superfamily fluff after the latest MCU movie. This is what came out. Already it's more than I wanted to write because I wanted a fluffy one-shot for my aching heart, but the story has already taken me 1) by the hand and 2) on a life of it's own. 
> 
> As far as the setting goes, the story will have reference to the MCU films, to the Marvel reality 616 and to all Spider-Man media as far as Peter Parker's Spider-Man is concerned. Not sure if other teams or heroes, such as the Fantastic 4 or the X-Men are gonna be featured in this, and so far I only put down the characters and tags which I know for sure are gonna appear and happen. But just maybe Bruce will also decide to turn up out of the green... eh, blue of course, and join the party.
> 
> Ratings/warnings/tags may change

“You sure, you're up to this, Tony?” Clint asked, his eyes crinkling behind his sunglasses as if to say: “I don't think so anyway.”

“Sure,” Tony laid all his usual bravado into the one word to make up for the fact that he really was anything but sure this would work.

“You know I'm always here to help you, don't be afraid or... too proud to ask,” Clint rubbed Tony's back for a second and it was a sign of how shaken the billionaire was that he allowed himself to lean into the comforting touch before clearing his throat and mentally suiting up against what was awaiting him behind the front door of this small, but clean-looking brownstone in Brooklyn. 

He passed across the small front yard and rung the door bell, while his heart sank into his shoes. 

“I changed more nappies than I can count, and math was always one of my favourite subjects, even the crap we had to do during S.H.I.E.L.D. training. Helped out Tasha a couple a' times when she-”

“Thanks, Clint,” Tony cut him short. He really didn't need his friend and teammate having a talkative one right now. Not when-

The door opened and a middle-aged, friendly looking woman frowned at him. That frown didn't bode well, Tony thought. As if this wasn't awkward enough.

“Hello, uhhh...” he didn't know how to go on. He, Tony Stark, lost for words. He knew Clint would mark this day down on the Avenger's digital calendar as soon as they were back at the mansion. 

“Well, you know why you're here, I know why you're here, so let's get it over with, shall we?”

Tony nodded and he and Clint entered the house although it was very clear that their host was far from happy to have them in her house. 

“He's all ready to go, and I put everything you're going to need into this bag,” she pointed at something but Tony only nodded instead of looking at the item she highlighted. 

“Well, then. Shall we?” Clint picked up the carrier and the bag, eager to go and make good on his promise probably, but Tony couldn't function, couldn't get his eyes from what was inside the carrier. 

“May, I'm so sor-”

“It's Mrs. Parker to you, Mr. Stark,” the woman corrected Tony, making it obvious she would not be making this easy from now on and nothing but a court order could force her to do something against her better judgment. “Just bring him back safe when the weekend is over. I expect you have at least five nannies and three butlers hired for those two days so you don't accidentally kill the boy?”

For the second time, Tony was lost for words. 

“Yes, ma'am,” Clint jumped into the conversation again, rescuing Tony from the need to answer. “The very best babysitters on this planet and also from off the planet will look after your nephew.”

May Parker's frown deepened as if she was not sure what gave Clint the right to be so bouncy and happy. “What do you mean 'off planet'?”

“He means nothing,” Tony laughed nervously. “He's just saying that some of our team mates sometimes behave as if they were born in another dimension, uh...” Too late Tony noticed that he maybe shouldn't have said something to confuse May even more, and he tried to rescue the situation with an awkwardly mumbled: “I will protect him with my life, ma'am.”

“Well,” May Parker seemed to be just below boiling point and her words cut deep as she said: “I hope you take better care of him than of the city of New York at least.” With that, she slammed the door in his face. Conversation over. 

“Auntie May is a real fire cracker, isn't she, little man?” Clint cooed at the baby while strapping him into the back seat of Tony's car. One of the few that even had a backseat. Usually he was more concerned with how fast his cars could accelerate and not so much about having enough space in one to fit a baby carrier into the back. A baby carrier that contained his own flesh and blood. Or so he had to assumed since the DNA test came out 100% positive. 100% percent. How unlikely was that even? Something still seemed off to him, although it was two weeks since this small human had come into existence with several loud screams. 

But still Tony didn't remember if he'd actually ever met the kid's mother, or whether or not he'd ever had sex with her. But DNA didn't lie. The small bundle that Clint, the freak, presented with a pacifier that glowed in the dark, was his son. 

Peter Benjamin Parker. Aunt May wouldn't even allow the kid to carry Tony's name. He didn't know if it would make a difference if the kid would've been named Peter Anthony Stark and if he would feel more like he was actually responsible for him, or not. He certainly did not feel like anyone's father, didn't even know if he had the potential to be fatherly, when his own had been...

Ah well, he sighed as he manoeuvred the car over to the isle of Manhattan. It couldn't go as bad as he thought, could it?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In case you're wondering why I put Jarvis, instead of F.R.I.D.A.Y. as a character...
> 
> The Ultron thing hasn't happened in this version, because to me Ultron is intimately linked to Hank Pym and to my understanding they'd both need to appear if I put Ultron into this, which I'm not sure about whether or not I should.  
> I also thought of making Jarvis a person like he was in the beginning, but in the modern era, Tony needs a super computer more than a butler. (I'm also too lazy to always write J.A.R.V.I.S. so please bear that in mind ;) )  
> And furthermore, I draw heavy inspiration from the familiarity of the team as depicted in Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes and Avengers Assemble so I added them as fandoms although it's pretty much a melting point of everything I like about the avengers coming together in this story.

Upon arriving at the mansion, he led the unlikely party into the kitchen, twiddling his avengers ID card which flashed up with an incoming call. 

“I should respond to this,” he told Clint.

“Why? It says Director Fury on the caller ID. Since when are you all that crazy to talk to him?”

“There could be something wrong?” Tony asked sarcastically. “Fury knows that I don't trust him as well as anyone. He's probably gonna have a reason if he's still trying to reach me instead of you or Tasha, his very own lapdogs.”

“Hey, that's not fair,” Clint bristled up but the by now sleeping baby moved uneasily as he raised his voice and Tony watched him as if someone had just stepped on a landmine ready to blow of, every movement might be fatal now, but the baby just produced a spit bubble, sighed as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders and slept on.

“The city of New York and the planet will be able to run for one weekend without the help of Iron Man,” Clint continued, in a softer tone.

“But it's not just one weekend, is it, Clint? It's a whole life that has to be organised around this. My life.”

“Not just yours, Tony. Like I said: You need anything, Tasha will be more than happy to become an aunt and I... well you know.”

“I know,” Tony sighed. As if he could forget what Clint had given up to become a full-time avenger again. His family was somewhere safe, knowing it was unlikely their dad and husband would ever return to them. His wife had understood, and dealt with it better than Clint himself actually. For a month after moving into the mansion, Clint had not talked to anyone, but as he became Hawkeye 24/7, he came to terms with his choice. He wasn't doing this for himself, but for all the people who needed him.

 

And just half an hour later, Tony needed him desperately.

“Clint!” he screamed into his headpiece, spilling his much needed Whiskey all over the floor, his heart racing at a pace that was definitely not healthy if you hadn't just run a marathon and with sweat staining his 400 dollar armani shirt while the little bundle, still in his carrier, screamed his tiny lungs out. 

“Yeah?” the archer drawled lazily over the intercom. “Whaddup, pal?”

“Were you having a nap?” Tony fumed and shook a baby rattle at Peter, holding it between pointed fingers as if he'd catch an infection if he got too close. Natasha had insisted on buying that useless thing when they went shopping for the first visit of the infant. Something from Tiffany, crazy expensive and with an engraving on it. And not working! 

“I can't calm him, Clint. I think he's broken or something,” Tony wiped a drop of sweat from his brow and towered over the baby, his hands on his hips as he was gonna stare him down into being quiet. “Shut it, little man.”

Peter's wailing grew even louder while Clint's dirty laugh and some rustling crackled over the intercom. Apparently he'd gotten out of bed to rescue Tony from an increasingly hopeless situation, or so the futurist hoped. 

“I'll give you a buck if you stop crying,” he tried to reason with Peter now. “No? Argh. Jarvis?”

“Yes, Sir?” the formal accent of Tony's super computer/butler/life assistant sprang to life, ready to serve.

“Is it possible this kid doesn't understand English? Could you try other forms of communicating with him?”

“What would you suggest?”

“I don't know, Jarvis, just do something.”

“No offence, Sir, but since I do not have any limbs or a bodily form, I fear the task of soothing the baby will be up to you.”

“But-”

“I did some research when you informed me that young master Peter would join us this weekend and it's most likely that he will calm down if you take him up and hold him in a manner so he can hear your heartbeat.”

“Smartass,” Tony muttered. Damn Computer pretending like he was the only one who prepared prior to this meeting. Tony had looked up stuff too, for Christ's sake. The thing with the holding the baby close to give it comfort he'd fed into Jarvis' memory base himself. 

But, he had to admit, seeing the fragile little human in real life and being responsible for it had temporarily wiped his inner interface.

“Alright, little guy. Here it goes,” he unbuckled the straps, not without some difficulty and put his hand behind the baby's head as he took him up. “Shhh, shhh, shhh,” he rocked him a little, thinking all the while: “This won't work, and I look damn stupid,” but his feeble first attempt seemed to do the trick, Peter sighed his put upon sigh once more, clutching at Tony with his tiny hand and settled again, spit from his slack mouth joining Tony's sweat and ruining his shirt for good.

“Jarvis, remind me: No more Armani on Peter weekends.”

“Noted, Sir,” Jarvis replied and did Tony just imagine it or was there a little amusement in the computer generated voice?

“Well, you seem to be doing well,” Clint appeared out of the elevator, sipping an ice cold can of coke and grinning widely.

“Yeah, he's better alrea- Hang. On. Did you stop over in the kitchen to get a drink before coming here? That's on the other side of the house!”

“A sandwich too,” Clint continued to grin and more than a few neurons in Tony's brain told him to bash the archer's teeth in for that.

“This is what you do if I scream for help? Will this be what happens when I give the call to assemble next time? Might have to think about the level of commitment you show,” he tried to be the dignified leader of the avengers that he was, but he was afraid his threatening words were kinda lost on Clint's attention which was just focused on the sleeping baby resting on Tony's chest.

“Not like it was a real emergency, like poop or something. And you seem to manage,” he turned and stepped into the elevator again. “If you don't mind, last's night's shift kinda exhausted me and I might catch some more shut eye before going out there again.”

“Yeah, sure. Leave me with the-” Tony interrupted himself, Clint's words processed now. God, he was getting slow. “What do you mean, poop? He only drinks milk. Surely there'll be no-”

The elevator door closed as he said the last word, desperately looking at the hairless tiny human he held. 

“-poop?” he finished to the empty, now somehow ominous appearing room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love suggestions, character requests and critique if you're willing to give feedback. 
> 
> (But please don't make me write Bucky. I would not be able to do him justice, all you Bucky lovers out there. Sorry but I'm not one of you.)


End file.
